Dee Moreno is out of options. Her home life sucks (to put it mildly), and she’s about to get booted from her boarding school–the only place she’s ever felt free–for lack of funds. But this is a world where demons exist, and the demons are there to make deals: one human body part in exchange for one wish come true.
The demon who Dee approaches doesn’t trade in the usual arms and legs, however. He’s only interested in her heart. And what comes after Dee makes her deal is a nightmare far bigger, and far more monstrous than anything she ever could have imagined. Reality is turned on its head, and Dee has only her fellow “heartless,” the charming but secretive James Lancer, to keep her grounded. As something like love grows between them amid an otherworldly ordeal, Dee begins to wonder: Can she give James her heart when it’s no longer hers to give?
In The Hearts We Sold, demons can be outwitted, hearts can be reclaimed, monsters can be fought, and love isn’t impossible. This book will steal your heart and break it, and leave you begging for more.
Out July, 2019
416 pages approx.
I received this book in exchange for my honest review.
I also received an earlier copy of this book with the exclusive cover shown above.
Okay, where to begin? Seriously, people! Do we no longer read a book to just enjoy it? Do we not read for entertainment?
Lately, I’ve noticed that a lot of YA books that have incredible premises are steeped so deep in this lesson or that, in an atmosphere of “it must be relatable and reliable” that the entertainment part is stifled. Sure, sure, I know what you’re going to say. Drama sells.
And teens are if nothing else, can be drama queens… but lately, there’s sooooooo much about abuse, coming out, overcoming, and relating to, that I can’t help but wonder why not just write a non fiction book covering these things and leave most out of fiction. Why would anyone want to relate to fiction? Fiction is after all, stories made up about things not real.
This book is so steeped in this lesson or that, in this controversy or that, in one issue or another, that the actual story, which is really, really good… is buried. Let’s throw a bit of love in the mix and voila! There you have a great YA book… as if.
I wanted to love this book, I really did. This author can write and write well. Her ideas are very good and inspiring. I guess that’s why I waited so long to write this review. I’ve been struggling with getting past everything that bugs me to write a decent review. I have read the book three times, and still can’t get past the over-abundance of issues presented in the story.
The Protagonist is fantastic and well-developed. She is strong and assured and of course a victim of abuse. So I suppose victims of abuse are suppose to relate to her. Then, she goes about making a deal with a demon in exchange for her heart, the author calls this making a wish. Okay. The abuse is delivered by her alcoholic parents. So we have alcoholism and child abuse, anxiety because she has to deal with being abused by her alcoholic parents, and fear of being made to go home and live with the abuse full time. So far, we have child abuse, alcoholism, parent abusers, dysfunctional family dynamics, anxiety and fear/phobia… there’s coming out of sexuality, breakdown of relationships… I mean, seriously… there’s more, but I think I make my point.
Now, don’t go chomping off my head here. I know where you’re going to go. There’s nothing wrong with addressing real-life issues in a YA book. Of course there isn’t, but how many issues is enough? Should authors throw in ALL the issues and see which ones stick just to sell books?
When should we address the issues over the story-line in fiction? Shouldn’t there be a story? Better yet, when should reality be allowed step on the toes of fiction writing and still be called fiction? When shouldn’t it? Perhaps, THAT is the better question.
I gave this book: